


Hath Made Her Mad

by Meridians_of_Madness



Category: Good Omens (TV)
Genre: Anal Plug, Consensual Non-Consent, F/F, Ineffable Wives | Female Aziraphale/Female Crowley (Good Omens), Infidelity Kink, Object Insertion, Punishment, Sexual Fantasy, Slut Shaming, Spanking, Vaginal Fingering, Verbal Humiliation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-30
Updated: 2020-10-30
Packaged: 2021-03-09 04:20:35
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,783
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/27278638
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Meridians_of_Madness/pseuds/Meridians_of_Madness
Summary: Aziraphale knows that paying for the fun can be just as good as having it in the first place, and Crowley tends to agree.*Written for the kink meme prompt foundhere.
Relationships: Aziraphale/Crowley (Good Omens)
Comments: 7
Kudos: 127





	Hath Made Her Mad

Aziraphale entered the shop through the rear, and the sheer idea of it made her burst into a hastily-stifled fit of giggles as she locked the door behind her.

_Oh I really must get a hold of myself, it wouldn't do to wake up …_

Before she could even finish the thought, a hard hand shot out of the dark and closed over her shoulder, shoving her back against the wall with a thump.

“Well, well, look who finally decided to slink her way home,” came a soft sibilant hiss from the darkness before of her, and Aziraphale tried to compose herself to where she could sound at least indignant.

“Oh Crowley, my goodness, you scared the living daylights out of me-”

“Not very concerned about what's coming out of you, angel, I'm really much more concerned about what's gone _in.”_

Before Aziraphale could respond to that, Crowley reached down with her free hand and hauled the edge of Aziraphale's sturdy tweed skirt and petticoat up until they was rucked around her thick waist, baring the braces that kept her dark stockings neat and and even. Unfortunately, her knickers had gone missing a few hours ago, and when Crowley reached down to grasp a healthy handful between her legs, she found no cloth at all, only sopping, tender flesh.

“Oh, just look at you,” Crowley said in tones of deepest disgust, her fingers tightening cruelly. “Look at what a mess you are, and what will I find if –“

Aziraphale gasped as Crowley thrust two hard fingers inside her, scissoring them viciously to gain her measure. If she had been cold and unprepared, it would have hurt very much, but of course she wasn't. Crowley's fingers slid in with ease, and Aziraphale whined at the shock of pleasure that even that fullness sent through her.

“Sloppy,” Crowley hissed, “sloppy and open like you took the lineup of a damned cricket team one after another-”

“Oh, are there many cricket teams in Hell?” asked Aziraphale with a giggle, and for a moment, she thought she had overplayed it, because she could almost feel Crowley bite her tongue to suppress a laugh of her own. Then they would both be in snickers, and that would be it for the night, no matter how carefully they had planned.

Then Crowley's hand came up, wet from Aziraphale's arousal, and slapped her hard on the cheek, turning her head for a moment before Crowley pulled her back and thrust two fingers into her mouth. She moaned at tasting herself, and Crowley shoved her fingers in deeper.

“Did you moan like that for the others,” Crowley demanded, impressively recovered. “Did that make them take any kind of mercy on you, or did it just make them use you harder?”

She pulled her fingers out of Aziraphale's mouth so quickly Aziraphale's teeth clicked together, and shoved them between her legs again, three fingers this time and thrusting hard enough that Aziraphale wailed.

“Oh, Crowley, please-!”

“Tell me. Tell me how many had you tonight, hm?”

“Th- four” she managed. “Oh, Crowley, please, it hurts-!”

“And it will hurt more before we are done. Four, what a little slut you are, with the neediest hole I ever did see. I mean, just _look_ at this.”

Crowley was doing rather more than looking. She worked her fingers and out, the wet sound and the dark smell rising up allowing Aziraphale to hide absolutely nothing of what she was feeling, and before Crowley was done, she had fallen back against the wall, her hands rising to cover her face in shame.

“Crowley, Crowley, I'm sorry,” she whimpered, and Crowley uttered a sharp sound that might have been related to a laugh before seizing her by the upper arm.

“Oh, not yet you're not. Come here.”

Aziraphale dug her heels into the ground for a moment, forcing Crowley to growl and put more force into dragging her to their bedroom, earlier cleared of the usual stacks of books for this very occasion. Crowley dragged to the foot of their bed and all but threw her onto it. When Aziraphale tried to scramble up and away, she had only gotten up to her knees before a hard hand landed on the back of her neck, forcing her face down to the quilt.

“Stay, or it will go the worse for you,” Crowley said, her tone dire. “I want to know exactly what it was you were getting up to tonight, or rather, what was getting up _you_.”

“Oh Crowley,” Aziraphale whined, and she yelped as Crowley landed a painfully hard smack to her thigh. With her rear up in the air, she realized with a target she must make and whimpered, burying her heated face in the quilt.

“Want me to get the cane, angel? You're already in enough trouble as it is. You won't like what happens if I decide to add being a prissy little miss to your list of crimes.”

“No, ma'am, please,” said Aziraphale entreatingly. The term of respect usually mollified Crowley and made her gentle, but this time the demon only snorted.

“If only you'd been so very respectful earlier. Now let's see.”

Aziraphale wiggled but didn't fall out of position as Crowley hitched her skirt up around her hips. She shivered when the cool air hit her exposed rear, and that was before Crowley shoved her knees apart. She was plush enough that it was some protection, but then Crowley seized her cheeks, spreading them apart with merciless intent.

“You're just dripping,” she said in tones of utter scandal. “Tell me. Who had you here first?”

“Oh, Crowley, I don't like to say,” Aziraphale temporized, and then she squalled as Crowley thrust two fingers deep into her, too hard and fast even for her present condition. Her cries echoed through the room as the demon worked her with what felt like all the strength in her frame before stopping as quickly as she started.

“Well?”

“A man at the club,” she said. “He was... well...”

It was so hard to say it; she could barely write this fantasy out when they had discussed it earlier, but Crowley encouraged her with another hard slap to her rear, her wet hand leaving a chilly spot on her skin.

“He came up behind me,” Aziraphale gasped. “At the pub. He came up behind me, and pushed against me. I could... I could feel him getting aroused, and there were so many people there. No one saw him start to lift my skirt.”

“Oh, angel,” Crowley said, a little breathless. “You're not telling me he had you right there at the bar, are you?”

“He did,” Aziraphale said, wishing Crowley's hand was back. “Crowley, it was... he was ever so big, and I was just getting opened up...”

“Did he finish?” asked Crowley softly.

Aziraphale nodded, her face flaming.

“He pulled out as he did, and it went all down my legs.”

If she thought that that would earn her any mercy, she was wrong. Crowley palmed her sex roughly, squeezing her hard and not letting up.

“And the second? What did you do after you had a nice time at the bar?”

For a moment, her mind was a total blank, and then she remembered from her notes.

“The lavatory,” she said humbly. “There... there were two women there.”

“Two,” Crowley said marveling. “Well, did you show them a good time?”

“Oh, Crowley, they were so mean to me _...”_

“Nothing less than what you deserved, you little whore. Tell me what happened.”

“Slapped me,” Aziraphale moaned. “Pulled my hair, put me on my knees on that awful floor. They made fun of that man's spend dripping down my legs and called me the most dreadful names.”

She could imagine it very well, the hard tile under her knees, her skirt being pushed up to expose what had been done to her. It made her squirm, and that was before Crowley grabbed a large handful of her hair, pulling her back up onto her hands. Two long fingers sought entrance between her lips and then pressed back hard and fast, fucking her mouth until she gasped and sputtered. Just as quickly as Crowley grabbed her, she let her go, dropping her onto the mattress again.

“And what did they do to you? You wouldn't be so wet for a little name-calling, would you?”

She might, if it was Crowley doing the name-calling, but instead she closed her eyes, shaking her head.

“They rode my face,” she mumbled. “One and then the other. It took ever so long, and then they made me lick them clean, the both of them, before they went on their way.”

“Just right,” Crowley said, her hand a settling on Aziraphale's hip in a proprietary manner. “They certainly knew how to treat a bit of trash like you, didn't they?”

Aziraphale murmured a hopeful agreement, but then Crowley pushed her over until she lay on her back, her clothes rumpled and her skirts pushed up around her hips. Crowley climbed on top of her, straddling her and pushing down so that she could feel the rough fabric of Crowley's jeans against her bare flesh, She knew she could get herself off if only Crowley would ride against her, the thick denim seam snug against her clit, but she didn't dare move now, not when Crowley glared down at her.

“You said four, angel,” Crowley said silkily. “What did lucky number four do, hm?”

“She took me home,” Aziraphale offered. “She... she didn't want to do it in the club, she said.”

As a reward, Crowley pressed down against Aziraphale just once, making her moan, before stilling.

“And then? I sincerely doubt anyone brings you home for your conversation.”

“No.... no, she put me over the arm of her chair.”

“And? Don't make me keep prompting you, Aziraphale. Mute little angels get their tongues clipped with a clothes peg until they're feeling more talkative.”

“Fingers!” Aziraphale gasped, almost dizzy with lust. “Her fingers, inside me, and fast and hard, and so _mean,_ Crowley!”

“Mean, you say that word so very much. I wonder if you have any idea what _real_ meanness is. It's not a pair of snickering office ladies making use of your mouth, I'll tell you that for nothing. How many did she make you take, angel, and where?”

“My quim,” Aziraphale moaned, “And … and four, she made me take four. She wanted to make me take more, but she said I was too tight, she couldn't fit it in no matter how she tried.”

Crowley slid back so she could seize Aziraphale between the legs, her fingers just short of bruising.

“Then she must not have been trying so hard,” Crowley said heartlessly. “I've fit things inside you that would make a sailor blush. You were just being lazy, as usual.”

Aziraphale started to answer, but then Crowley's fingers slipped in, not one or two, but three, and then four, sending an electric shock of sensation through her body. She wailed, covering her face with her hands, but it didn't matter as Crowley's fingers thrust into her with almost bruising force.

“Couldn't fit, what nonsense. Look at this, look at how wet you are, you could take my whole hand like that, you could take my whole _fist_ if I wanted you to.”

Aziraphale sobbed, her entire body shaking with need, clamping down on Crowley's fingers. Her hips rode up without her volition against Crowley's punishing force, and then Crowley pulled away again, shaking out her hand with disdain.

“All right, I've heard enough,” she said in tones of deepest disgust. “I think it's time for you to take what's coming to you.”

Aziraphale held her breath, because this part was a surprise, she had no idea what was coming to her, only that she had do her best to deserve it very very much, and she had. Eyes wide, she watched as Crowley pulled a tangle of straps out from under the pillow, glints of chrome shining through the leather. A brisk shake made the configuration plainer and Aziraphale stared at not one but two rods secured in the mesh, one almost obscenely large, and the other somewhat more modest but ridged.

She had looked too long, and Crowley reached over to give her hair a sharp tug.

“On all fours, miss, or shall I fetch the cane after all?”

No, absolutely not, not when she had gotten an eyeful of Crowley's bright new idea, and she rose up to her knees again, dropping invitingly to her elbows so that Crowley could see what she was doing. Her eagerness elicited a dark chuckle from Crowley, who ran a warm hand up her spine to the curve of her rear.

“So eager,” she taunted. “Made for this and nothing else, angel, never let anyone tell you different.”

“No, ma'am.”

Aziraphale groaned as the head of the larger dildo pressed against her soaked quim, large and intimidating, but so breathtakingly smooth and cold. Crowley hadn't bothered to slick it, as wet as she was, but she still had to ease herself onto the length, Crowley's soft voice encouraging her the entire way. It was utterly unyielding inside her, and even bigger than it looked, spreading her out and making her shake.

“Sh, sh, there, there, poor little thing,” Crowley murmured. “You had better get over this fast because you have more coming.”

“I can't, I can't _possibly,”_ Aziraphale whimpered, and Crowley laughed.

“You know, angel, whenever you say that about cake, I always seem able to convince you otherwise. Bet it'll hold true for things shoved up your cute little arse as well.”

The tip of the rod that Crowley pressed to her rear hole was thickly smeared with lubricant but no less cold than the first had been, and it seemed just as large. Aziraphale whined in protest, but Crowley only pressed the steel toy rhythmically against the tight whorl.

“It's going in like or not, angel. Best relax yourself or it might really hurt.”

Aziraphale took several deep breaths, but before she was quite ready, the beastly thing popped inside, just the first ridge, barely an inch inserted into her body, and she bucked in shock at the invasion.

“That's how I know you've not been cared for properly,” Crowley said, all sweetness. “Look at you shake. No worries, angel, _I_ know how to treat a sluttish thing like you.”

Aziraphale would have responded, but Crowley was repeating the motion with the second ridge, riding Aziraphale on it until her body gave way. It was quicker that time, and even quicker the third, before Crowley paused.

“One more. I think you're ready enough, don't you?”

Aziraphale started to ask Crowley what she meant, but then Crowley pushed the toy home with no rocking at all, nothing more than a hard press that fell just barely short of pain and so intense that Aziraphale buried her face in the sheets, moaning and shivering and so wet that she had no idea how the first dildo was staying in.

Crowley muttered soft sweet things to her as she busied herself fastening the leather straps. They were tight, digging into her hips and her belly, and when Crowley was done, there was no chance of anything sliding free until the latches were undone. Crowley settled back on her heels with a nod of satisfaction.

“There. That's precisely what you should look like at all times, isn't it, angel? I think we shall keep you like this for a while, just so you remember who owns those holes.”

“Yes... yes, ma'am” Aziraphale said, so dizzy with need and love that she couldn't help a ridiculous grin from spreading over her face. She turned away to hide it, but Crowley caught her chin in her hand, turning her back and smiling down at her.

“Great Somebody, angel, how in the world do you not have suitors falling down in your path when you look like this?”

Aziraphale tried to answer, but only managed a helpless, slightly soggy giggle, and Crowley nodded briskly.

“Quite right, angel, back to the business of shaming you dreadfully. Down your knees for a start. You have some business to take care of between my legs and after that, maybe you'll have a better definition for _mean.”_

Aziraphale half-fell off the bed as Crowley kicked off her jeans, and as she settled down between the demon's knees, she thought of how lucky she was that she had a demon that knew exactly what it was she deserved (and longed for, and begged for, and planned for in exhaustive detail...).


End file.
